


The Night to Remember

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Language, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9002176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: Emma’s never been one who particularly enjoys her birthday, but then, she’s also never celebrated it with Regina before.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [The Night to Remember - Traduction de Velace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041945) by [EvilChachouuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilChachouuu/pseuds/EvilChachouuu)



> Though a usual inclusion of mine, there is no M!C in this shot, so those put off by such things need not worry about being suddenly smacked in the face with a magical dong. You’re welcome, and I’m sorry, respectively :P
> 
> Also, Merry Christmas, from New Zealand ;)

 

“Having fun?”

“Mmm.”

Emma slides into the seat across from Regina. “Convincing,” she teases, though not without understanding as she flashes her a smile.

Regina hadn’t wanted to come, but _had_ come for her sake. They’re friends, it’s her birthday, and the town wanted to celebrate. She isn’t much up for it herself but she didn’t expect that to stop her parents going ahead with it and at least with Regina here, she isn’t suffering alone.

“Wanna get out of here?” She grins, eyebrows wagging. Regina chuckles, her smile soft— fond in a way that makes Emma melt from time to time. “Seriously. I will totally leave with you right now.”

“It’s barely been two hours.” Regina shoots her a look. It’s the same look she gives whenever Emma helps herself to a second plate of dinner every Wednesday, like it’s _her_ fault Regina is a total Goddess in the kitchen. “Loath as you might find these things, and I am in absolute agreement with you, they did do all this for you.”

Emma sighs. She knows, and somewhere deep down she’s sure she appreciates it. Deep, deep down. “After I asked them not to,” she mumbles, lower lip taking on a slight pout. She loves her parents but sometimes they just don’t _listen_ and it’s infuriating.

Regina continues to smile. “You really are one big child, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” she admits, mouth popping loudly on the P just as Red walks passed and hands her a beer. “Thanks Rubes!”

“Don’t mention it,” she calls from somewhere, instantly lost in the crowd of people dancing around them.

Reaching beneath the table and opening the bottle with her belt buckle, Emma flicks the cap into the air with her thumb and smirks as she watches it drop into Regina’s long ago emptied wine glass. “Oops,” she says, not at all contrite as she takes a swig and leans back in her seat with a sigh.

Regina huffs. “Imagine there was still wine in that and I just dumped it over your head.”

Emma gives her a thumbs up and looks around at all the people gathered. At least half the town is in attendance and at least half of those she’s fairly certain she’s never even met. Snow insists that although they’re not in the Enchanted Forest, she _is_ still royalty and it helps to include everyone when given the chance. Helps what exactly, she has no idea but as with most things concerning her mother, she’d acquiesced just to avoid any arguments.

Catching sight of Hook in the crowd, she pretends not to notice he’s leering at her and avoids looking in his direction again. Sometimes taking the easy route and _not_ arguing comes back to bite her on the ass. They’d dated for maybe a month before he decided he was going to marry her. He started talking about wanting to settle down and have kids, like what she wanted didn’t even factor into it.

She doesn’t want kids. She never has. She loves Henry to death, but he hadn’t been planned. Even if somewhere down the line she does want more, the last person she’ll subject them to as far as father figures are concerned is an unemployed pirate with a drinking problem.

Taking her eyes from the crowd and letting them fall on Regina, she bites the inside of her cheek. No one would ever compare, certainly not Hook, but if given the choice— well, the bar was set 14 years ago, and it’s pretty damn high.

“Stop staring. It’s rude.”

Doing nothing to hide her smile, Emma tilts her head. “It’s my birthday,” she says, “I can stare all I want.”

A perfectly sculpted brow rises but Regina doesn’t contradict her. Instead, she leans back in her seat much in the same way Emma herself has and provides an even better incentive to stare as she crosses her arms, turning what _had_ been an invitation for her to start one of their little bickering matches into something else entirely as the air around them thickens.

Emma almost whimpers at the amount of flesh on display now with the change in position, confident it isn’t a mistake. Regina never does anything without thinking it through. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the effect it has on her; all evident in the smirk that appears when Emma swallows and averts her eyes a split-second before Regina shifts, drawing them right back.

Regina has never been one to play fair. As if the three buttons that appear permanently defunct no matter the blouse she wears weren’t bad enough, Emma can see her bra, for crying out loud.

“Best birthday present ever.” A husky chuckle pulls her from her trance and she flushes in realization that she’d said that out loud. “Uh.”

“No no,” Regina purrs, teeth bared in a grin one could only describe as predatory. “Please, do go on.”

Emma shakes her head. “Has anyone ever told you you’re evil?”

“Me?” Regina mock gasps and holds a hand to her chest. As she speaks, her fingers start to caress along her collarbone and Emma is transfixed once more. “Now why would anyone say something so cruel?”

“No idea,” she murmurs, mouth drying instantly. They’ve flirted plenty of times before, but nothing quite like this. It’s almost as if— “Are you seducing me?”

“That depends.” The grin widens and a finger traces the length of a dark, lower lip as Regina asks, “Is it working?”

“Um…” She hesitates to admit it, mostly because she’s somewhat embarrassed by just how well it _is_ working. She sighs at herself and confesses, “More than a little bit.”

“Then yes,” Regina replies, grin softening into something resembling affection. “Yes, Miss Swan, I am seducing you.”

The confirmation is nice, but no less confusing as she questions, “But… why?”

“Well, I did forget to buy you a present.” Emma frowns at that and Regina laughs, voice chiding when she eventually says, “Emma.”

Emma blinks as the reason dawns on her. “You were joking— about the present, not the…” Regina inclines her head and she breaths a sigh of relief. “Right.”

Taking another sip of her beer, she rests the mouth of the bottle against her bottom lip. In all that, Regina hasn’t moved and as long as that remains true, she _is_ going to stare all she wants because it _is_ her birthday and Regina clearly _wants_ her to, so why not? She kind of regrets asking about the seduction now, as she wouldn’t have minded were it to continue.

Regina leans forward and Emma’s eyes widen a little before the bottle is snatched from her hand. Her gaze flickers up and— oh. Heat blossoms in the pit of her stomach as she slumps back in her seat, one outstretched hand falling to the table top with a dull thump.

If it hurts, she doesn’t notice, too preoccupied with trying to remember how to breath as she watches the slow, rhythmic throb of Regina’s throat.

“Jesus,” she whispers. The sight is certainly giving her some ideas about what might happen if she possessed a certain appendage _,_ and she’s never been so turned on in her life.

“Problem, Miss Swan?” Regina questions coyly, lowering the bottle as she licks her lips and meets her stare.

Emma makes a sound between a whimper and a moan. She hates it when Regina calls her that, but in that tone of voice; Regina can call her whatever the hell she wants.

Letting the moment stretch on as she tries to clear the cob webs that have taken up residence inside her brain, she releases a breath. It had been hot before, but it’s scorching now and— for someone who claims she can’t leave just yet, Regina is making it _really goddamn hard_ to resist dragging her out of the bar.

Regina simply laughs at her continued silence and, as offended as she thinks she should be, Emma finds the sound does nothing to dampen the fire burning through her. She sits up and struggles out of her jacket, hoping it might cool her down some before she spontaneously combust.

Having draped the jacket over the back of her chair, she turns back and freezes. The way Regina is looking at her brings a single word to mind and that word is _hungry—_ like she’s seconds away from launching herself across the table and consuming Emma whole.

A grin spreads across her face. If she’d known the simple art of taking off her jacket could turn the tables so quickly she might have done it sooner, although…

No, she decides. As embarrassed as she is by how easily Regina affects her, if she’d known, she would have waited until later and given herself more time to appreciate the slow, sweet torture that is one Regina Mills with the Sheriff completely at her mercy.

Even now, as she savours the dark gaze tracing her arms, she thinks she might still be at Regina’s mercy. She hasn’t moved an inch and it’s only just now she realizes she’s stopped breathing altogether. Her chest heaves with the breath she takes and she feels her nipples harden as the gaze falls to her breasts, Regina’s tongue swiping her lower lip.

Oblivious, her mother chooses then to pop the bubble that has surrounded them with a chirpy and slightly drunken, “Hi guys!”

Emma startles before shooting her a glare, a little relieved but mostly annoyed as she gets to her feet and storms off without word.

Regina watches her departure with a smirk and turns to Snow once she’s out of sight. “Hello dear.”

 

.

.

.

 

Getting rid of Snow is as simple as assuring her that Emma is having a good time and then waiting until David asks her to dance. Finding Emma, on the other hand, is somewhat more difficult. She had the, admittedly wishful, idea that perhaps Emma went to the bathroom and was waiting for her but after popping her head in and finding numerous women milling about by the sinks, she figured if that had been the case, then Emma likely changed her mind on seeing them all there.

After checking the bar and scouring the crowded dance floor, Regina has one avenue left to check. She wanders back to her table and retrieves Emma’s jacket from the back of her chair before she makes her way outside.

As soon as the door closes, an arm grabs her around the waist and she gasps, a split-second from magicking herself away and roasting her attacker before Emma’s voice meets her ears.

“It’s only me.”

She huffs but the stiffness in her spine releases, immediately calmed as she sinks back into the warmth at her back. “You left abruptly,” she says, raising the arm she’d draped her jacket over. “I thought you might need this.”

Emma wraps both arms around her and buries her face in her neck with a murmured, “I’m good now, thanks.”

Regina chuckles softly as she rests her own arms on the two around her waist. “This is highly inappropriate,” she teases, and grins at Emma’s scoff. “What if someone comes out and sees us?”

“As long as they don’t stop to chat,” Emma replies, “I won’t punch them in the face.”

She laughs. “So _that_ _’s_ why you left so quickly.”

“Mmm,” Emma hums. “Knowing my mother, she’d hit me back.”

“Most likely,” Regina agrees, grin widening with the thought. “Do you intend to stay out here for the rest of the night?”

“Got a better idea?”

“Many,” she admits, voice dropping an octave.

_Her_ intentions have been clear ever since Emma sat down at her table. By the end of the night, she intends to have intimate knowledge of exactly what Emma Swan is capable of.

“Interested?” She questions with a purr, turning in their embrace, brow cocked.

Emma shivers and smirks. “Extremely.”

“Good answer,” she says, pulling from the embrace and holding her jacket out to her.

Emma takes it but doesn’t put it on, instead throwing it over her shoulder. Regina’s eyes drop to her arm and she bites the corner of her mouth. For a good long while now, Emma’s strength has been a constant on her mind. Ever since the fire in which Emma saved her with little to no effort, arm tight around her— holding her up, keeping her steady; the thoughts have come whether she’s been willing to indulge them or not.

Suffice it to say, she has spent _years_ fantasizing about those arms and all the positions she might take advantage of were they to ever get passed their laughable attempt at a mere _friendship_ when she’s always known they were destined for so much more.

“You can touch it,” Emma teases and her gaze snaps up, cheeks flushing. “I know you want to.”

Regina rolls her eyes. Gods help her, she truly does but— “And give you the satisfaction? I think not, Miss Swan,” she says, sounding as haughty as she possibly can under the circumstances as she takes another step back.

She turns on her heel, hips swaying as she saunters across the street to where she’d parked the Benz earlier in the night, all the while trying to ignore the husky, knowing little laugh that _almost_ causes her to stumble.

 

.

.

.

 

 

The drive to the mansion is silent and ripe with tension. Regina drives like a lunatic but since it means getting them to their destination sooner, Emma is less concerned about them dying than she thinks she probably should be given the number of stop signs they’ve passed without, you know, _stopping_.

“Miss Swan,” Regina snaps the moment she cuts the ignition, the keys snatched from her hand.

“Don’t even,” Emma says, throwing open her door and getting out.

She knows Regina well enough to know she’d have used the walk up the path to the house as an excuse to tease her even more. She’s already worked up. “I’m not putting myself through all that again,” she continues the thought aloud as she rounds the car, hand gesturing from Regina’s unfairly perfect face to her killer, fuck-me heels and back again.

In record time, she has the door open. She’s in the process of hanging her jacket when Regina saunters in, kicking the door shut behind her. She opens her mouth, likely to scold her, but just as quickly as she had taken the keys, Emma picks her up and Regina gasps.

Legs wrapping around her waist, she glares down at her. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

Emma grins as she leans in, the sound of heels hitting the floor. “Nope,” she admits, “but I might wear tank tops more often.”

“Hmm.” Regina feigns consideration, hands curling around her biceps. Emma flexes, drawing a groan that has her lips parting and a wave of heat rolling through her stomach. Regina crushes their mouths together and they both moan into the kiss as Emma grabs her ass and squeezes, nails cutting into her flesh as Regina gasps, “Bedroom.”

“Directions,” she retorts, the word swallowed up as she then dives straight back in.

She wonders, briefly, if there is a way they can communicate without her ever having to stop kissing Regina before she feels the nails again.

She takes all ten of them digging in to mean _forward_ , and is glad her brain still functions when she remembers the couple of steps she needs to ascend if she doesn’t want to trip and send them crashing to the floor. Regina confirms the thought when she almost passes the second set of stairs and the hand around her left bicep tightens.

Emma turns right at the same time Regina shoves a tongue into her mouth. Her hand shoots out and smacks against the banister, making her hiss as Regina pulls back at the sound of bone meeting wood. She raises a brow, amusement in her eyes.

“Shut up,” Emma mumbles, shaking out her hand before Regina captures it.

“Poor baby,” she coos, mocking as she brings it to her mouth.

Emma’s tempted to call her an asshole but her breath hitches on the first syllable. She thought Regina might kiss it like one would a child’s scraped knee, all condescending like. Instead, her eyes close with a shuddery moan as a tongue glides across her knuckles.

“Keep that up and I’ll drop you,” she says in warning, voice hoarse and knees buckling.

“Drop me,” Regina purrs, biting into the knuckle of her middle finger. “And your hand won’t be the only thing hurting after I force you to service me right here on these stairs.”

“That’s terrible incentive,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering open at the sound of a raspy laugh. It strikes her just how beautiful Regina is in the moment and in her typical fashion, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “God, you’re sexy.”

Regina grins at her, cheeks an even deeper red. “Thank you,” she says, guiding her hand to the banister. Emma’s fingers curl, injury forgotten as Regina kisses her softly. “Now take me to bed before I lose what little patience I have left.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice and she manages the climb without too much trouble, one half of her attention on the stairs while the other half remains on the lips that take to attacking her jaw as soon as she starts to move. She stumbles once or twice but they eventually reach the top in tact and with those nails once more leading the way, she takes another right down the hall.

“Mmm. Stop,” Regina says after only a few short steps, throwing out a hand that blows open a door to their left before she’s devouring Emma’s mouth again and tugging on her right arm.

Emma smiles as the affection she feels for her overshadows the desire for but a second; Regina wasn’t kidding about losing her patience.

Walking over to the bed, she tries to put her down gently but is thwarted when Regina yanks her down with her. She half laughs, half moans as the legs around her waist tighten before she breaks their kiss. Regina glares up at her and she shakes her head, affectionate in her laughter before she pecks her on the lips, stilling any protest Regina might offer. “Clothes?”

“Oh.” Regina frowns, then waves her hand.

Emma chokes on a gasp at the sudden heat against her stomach. “Jesus.”

“Too fast?”

_Yes. Maybe. No._ Emma shakes her head. _Shit._

Regina is naked…

…with her.

Regina is naked with her, and she’s thinking about the pace.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

“Fuck no,” she breathes finally and earns her a smile that lights up Regina’s face, a sweet little laugh falling from her lips that has Emma kissing her in the next second.

She could listen to Regina laugh for hours, but hearing her moan, feeling Regina rub up against her— _fuck_ ; appealing doesn’t even _begin_ to describe it when she does just that. Emma groans into her mouth as the legs fall from around her waist, opening Regina up and coating her stomach in even more wet heat.

Emma grinds down as hands run along her back, nails raking against skin before digging in to the cheeks of her ass and gripping tight. Regina hums and moans with every little grind, purring her encouragement with breathy little _yes_ _’_ when their lips part and Emma takes to her neck, licking and sucking whatever she can get her mouth on.

They’re essentially rutting like a couple of animals. Regina has barely even touched her and yet, she feels as though she might explode at any moment.

As Regina begins to shake, Emma growls into the hollow of her throat and lifts her hips. Regina whimpers and tries to pull her back down but she resists and shoves a hand between them. If it’s going to be quick, then it’ll be quick, but she’ll be damned if Regina doesn’t at least come in her _hand_ like a civilized human being.

Latching on to her pulse, Emma bites down as she thrusts into Regina with two fingers. Regina gasps and a hand flies to the back of her head, fingers twisting in her hair as nails sink into her scalp. Emma moans, enjoying what little pain there is as she strokes the walls of her pussy.

She finds that rough patch of flesh easily enough and runs the tips of her fingers over it, loving the way Regina jerks every time before growling, denied the pressure she so obviously seeks.

Emma loses count of how many times she does it but when the grip on her hair tightens and the pierce of nails threatens to draw blood, she presses more firmly, thumb slipping between slick, swollen folds and zeroing in on her clit.

Regina lets out a shuddering little sob as her back arches, hips rolling wantonly and seemingly out of her control. She clutches Emma to her with a fierceness that forces the breath from her lungs, and then she’s coming, moaning and muttering a whole lot of gibberish that has Emma quietly laughing into her neck.

Breathing ragged, she eventually stills and Emma wiggles her fingers, chuckling as a hand comes down on her ass with a solid thwack.

“Don’t make me murder you on your birthday.”

“Keep threatening me in that voice and I might not have a choice,” she murmurs, lifting her head as she carefully extracts her fingers.

Regina whines. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re apparently a pillow princess,” Emma teases, rolling on to her back. “And I need it more than you do.”

The second those words are out of her mouth, there’s a body on top of her and Regina grabs her wrists, lifting them up and pinning them beside her head. “Lesson one,” she growls, bending forward, bringing their faces close. “I am the Queen, and it would do you well to remember that, _Princess_.”

Emma grunts as she tries to hide her grin behind a look of displeasure, as though she isn’t fully enjoying her new position.

If Regina notices her struggle in that regard, she doesn’t mention it, determined as she is to assert her dominance. “Lesson two, _”_ she continues, sliding a knee between her thighs. “ _This_ is mine now.”

A whimper sticks in Emma’s throat. Generally, that kind of declaration is something that would turn her right off and end in the person trying to claim her on the floor, but coming from Regina it only turns her on more. “Last I checked, your name isn’t on it,” she goads anyway.

The grin she gets is nothing short of predatory. “That can certainly be arranged,” Regina purrs as dark chestnut flashes to a vibrant purple.

“Ah!” Emma jumps at the unexpected burn along her pelvis. “I was kidding!”

“Perhaps you’ll think twice next time,” Regina says, her look full of mischief before it turns expectant, like she’s waiting for Emma to remember something.

Emma rolls her eyes when she realizes what it is. “Fine,” she mutters, huffing lightly.

“Fine,” Regina drawls, lips twitching as she sits up and scoots a little lower. “Fine, what?”

“Fine,” Emma breathes, attention drawn to the warm, glistening trail she’s left behind on her stomach. “It’s yours.”

“All of it.”

Her eyes snap up, brow furrowed in confusion. All of it? “What?”

“All of it. All of you,” Regina says, freeing both their hands as she brings her arms down and palms Emma’s breasts. “All mine.”

“Oh.”

She tilts her head with a grin. “Surprised?”

“A little,” Emma admits, nodding. More than, she’d wager, given the time to think about it. She understands Regina wanting to have sex with her. It’s kind of been the inevitable thing between them; the flirting, the looks, the unnecessary but not necessarily unwelcome touches. Their sexual tension could probably level an entire city at its weakest, never mind what it might be capable of when it’s really up there. She isn’t blind and, despite popular belief, she’s not an idiot either.

“But…”

Regina lifts a brow and repeats, “But?”

“Yes,” she confesses, both surprised and not as she adds, “for the longest time.”

Overwhelming warmth and an undeniable heat fill Regina, affection and desire all rolled into one as she stares down at Emma. The anger that rises within her as well is no match for everything else she feels, anger that Emma might have known as long as she has and chosen to do nothing about it until now.

Nothing could be stronger than this fondness, this want, this _need_ to have Emma, to make up for all that lost time and finally take what she has craved for so, so long.

Her nostrils flare and she covers Emma’s mouth, slipping a tongue between parted lips and swallowing both of their moans. Hands immediately start to wander her sides, her back, her thighs as Emma touches anywhere and everywhere, massaging flesh as they taste one another, drinking each other in.

It isn’t quite what she imagined. It isn’t the hard, rough, animalistic fucking she’d pictured in the beginning, nor is it the soft and tender love-making that her mind has conjured of the two of them in the recent months, but it is something. Something more, something meaningful— something in between that has Regina wishing her mind had been more creative, to have imagined this love and lust combined with all their care, their fire that makes this so much more than what she ever thought possible.

Slow, fast, hard or soft; none of it truly matters when Emma is the one giving it to her.

As those hands slide over the cheeks of her ass and a thigh presses between her legs, an unbridled moan of wanton delight sounds from within. It’s meant to be her turn, but she knew— she _knew_ Emma would do as she damn well pleased and instead of arguing, she welcomes the pressure, pushing back and grinding her hips as she nips playfully at Emma’s tongue.

Emma retaliates with a finger between her cheeks and she gasps, breaking their kiss for the dirty grin that takes over her mouth.

“My my,” she purrs teasingly. “Something I should know, dear?”

Emma’s tongue flickers along her lower lip before she offers up a grin of her own. “I’m more of a show, don’t tell kinda gal.”

“Mmm,” Regina hums, ducking down and sucking the lip into her mouth. She pulls back on it with teeth, Emma’s moan sending a jolt of pleasure straight between her thighs before she lets go. “If you’re wanting permission, you have it.”

She wants it all. Every little fantasy, every little kink and depraved sexual thought Emma has. Anything Emma wants to do, anything at all, she’ll have her permission without even having to ask for it.

“Lucky me,” Emma murmurs before she grabs the back of her head. She pulls her down into another kiss and Regina groans into her mouth as she feels the finger rub at her puckered hole, almost penetrating but not quite as Emma gathers more and more of her juices.

The more Emma rubs, the wetter she becomes and as she starts to lose control of her hips, she breaks from Emma’s lips once more and buries her head in the crook of her neck.

Emma moves the hand from her head and slips it between them, fingers stroking through her folds, bumping against her clit with every roll and thrust. The sounds she makes increase the closer she comes to the edge, any restraint she might have shown with anyone else gone; dead. Forgotten, as if it never existed to begin with.

Panting heavily into Emma’s neck, she thrusts and thrusts, harder and faster, chasing that elusive release until finally, _finally_ Emma gives her exactly what she wants, what she needs. Emma fills both holes, driving three fingers into her pussy as she slides another into her ass. She curls the one and with a sharp tug, Regina gives into the desire to bite down into the flesh beneath her mouth.

It hurts, but it’s the good kind of hurt and oh— oh how she wants to _reward_ Emma for this pleasure.

She has never allowed anyone back there. It never even occurred to her, and she wonders now at how that can be when it feels this good.

“More,” she croaks, not entirely sure what that more could possibly be but knowing Emma will give it to her regardless, and crying out as a second finger joins the first.

With the careful strokes from behind combined with the way she drives herself down on to the fingers buried deep in her pussy, it isn’t long before she’s coming for the second time that night. She moans Emma’s name over and over, unable to provide even the merest illusion of control as she comes undone.

This time when Emma tries to extract her fingers, Regina stiffens, clenching every muscle in her body. Emma chuckles, sending a warm puff of breath to buffet her shoulder.

“Mine,” she mumbles, burrowing deeper into her neck.

“I thought this was supposed to be _my_ birthday present,” Emma teases before Regina raises her head with a pout.

“Is my pleasure not a gift to you?”

Emma grins, head shaking and sending her curls in every direction. She is gorgeous like this, Regina notes. Not that Emma isn’t gorgeous a fair majority of the time, but like this— tousled, eyes shining with affection and mirth; Emma is breathtaking.

“Well?” She questions impatiently and Emma laughs, _really_ laughs.

It’s quite the sight.

“Maybe,” Emma replies eventually. “But it’s also kind of torture, Regina.”

Dark lips pull into a grin far more sinister than Emma’s own had been. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh.” She nods, biting down on her lower lip. “You’re borderline evil at this point.”

“Only borderline?” Regina smirks, eying the lip as it reappears, not nearly as swollen as she’d like. She leans down and drags her tongue along it before sucking it into her mouth with a soft moan, then releases. “I guess I need to try harder.”

 

.

.

.

 

Emma’s eyes roll into the back of her head. When Regina said she needed to try harder, she certainly meant it. Her hands are everywhere all at once, pinching and stroking, rolling— kneading, driving Emma insane with desire.

And her mouth.

Dear _god_ , her mouth. It’s as though Regina is trying to swallow her whole, following the path of her hands with lips and tongue, licking and sucking with an intensity that burns. Emma is throbbing, literally soaked and babbling incoherently by the time Regina reaches where she wants her most.

The first stroke of Regina’s tongue through her heat is exquisite and if not for the hand holding her down, she’d be worried that first buck would’ve shaken a few teeth loose. She forces her gaze back down and sees the grin before Regina does it again, only this time she pauses, sucking her clit into her mouth.

Emma can think of nothing better to do than grab her head and promise to never let go.

Regina’s chuckle sends vibrations ricocheting through her. Her body tingles, and Emma knows she isn’t going to last more than a couple of minutes, if that.

“Please,” she begs and even though it’s the first time she’s ever done it, she doesn’t care. She’s been ready for this since she sat down at Regina’s table and in a matter of seconds, Regina has already proven she’s earned the right; to claim, to possess her and take what she wants.

Regina lifts her head, pupils blown wide. “Now, Miss Swan,” she purrs, sucking the wetness from her lower lip. “We both know you can do better than that.”

Emma doubts that, and she whimpers in the hope it expresses as much. It is astounding enough she’d managed one word that she’s fairly certain whatever Regina expects will take no less than a miracle to articulate.

“Em-ma.”

Emma shivers with a groan and rolls her hips. If Regina threatening her in that tone was hot, then saying her name like that is damn near scorching.

“Tell me what you want, Em-ma.”

“Fuck,” she breathes. “You. Just you.”

Regina’s eyes flicker with something— surprise, maybe— and an abundance of lust. “Well then,” she says, grinning wider before she proceeds to give Emma a birthday she won’t soon forget.

 


End file.
